Kristen isn’t used to getting this many direct compliments from him. It’s kind of a lot. Normally he’s talking about her to a reporter, singing her praises. It’s making her feel -- weird. Not necessarily a bad weird, but it’s messing with their dynamic a bit. She doesn’t necessarily want it to stop, though.

Summary

Kristen’s been working at her swanky, high-rise, art gallery job in the city for close to a year now. About six months ago the bike delivery guy on their route got transferred. His replacement is younger, less sweaty and has the most unruly, adorable curls Kristen has ever seen.

Summary

It’s the drama class that’s first, meeting at noon every Monday. Kristen gets turned around on campus, feels like an idiot, pulls a door when she should push, and ends up sprinting into class two minutes late.

“Sorry,” she mutters sheepishly, parking herself near the back and taking in the guy with curly hair and glasses who is probably a T.A. or something.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” he says, and starts passing out a packet.

“I’m Professor Eisenberg.”

Kristen blinks up from where she was pulling her notebook and pen out of her Jansport. So, not a T.A., then.